Well, Fuck Me Gently With A ChanSaw
by iamhellonwheels
Summary: Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw, because I'm fucking Heather Chandler. And good sex, really. Questioning about my sexuality right now. Hi, I'm Veronica Sawyer, and when you don't see me, I'm drowning in pussy. What more can a girl that has a love-hate relationship and a very slight romantic idolization of her can want? [M for language and sexual content, obviously]
1. Heather Chandler's In My Room

_Mmm, Veronica..._

Darkness. Darkness arose. My body was bare except the upper parts, as I slept alone in my apartment. I was 18 after all, still in Westerburg High, with the people crazed on Snapchat and Instagram. I felt numb everywhere. Then a feeling came into my body. I started to wake up, my eyes groggy and pained. Then, it all came clear to where the feeling was.

Heather Chandler was right here, right now, giving me lovely cunnilingus.

"Veronica," she cocked her tongue out with her lovely visage and eyes right on to me with a sense of shock with a sort of calmness on it. "I expected you to wake up earlier."

"Get out of my house," I coldly stated.

"I've been rubbing your cunt for two minutes now," she grinned devilishly. "I knew tongue-action was the trick. Thanks for opening your legs," she winked at me.

"Why the hell are you here?"

"Shall we continue? I don't mind if you cum on my tongue."

"I'm asking you a question _bitch,_ and it's about why you're here in my goddamn apartment right now."

"Do you really want to curse in front of Heather Chandler dear?" She stood up, still dressed in her innocent-girl clothes, with her painstakingly short skirt. She put herself down my torso, giving me a full look of the awfully bitchy yet hot Heather. Heather no 1 she's called. No wonder why.

"No," I nervously replied. The bitch chuckled.

"That's nice. I'm not going to kill you, 'cause I'm feeling horny tonight," she iterated with a sing-song voice.

"Why are you here?" I bluntly asked again.

"Kurt and Ram didn't want to fuck. They said it's literally 3:30AM in the morning and they were drinking and smoking pot," she inched closer and closer to me. "So I chose you."

"Why? You could've fucked with trench coat kid."

"Nobody likes to fuck a newbie," she bit the part of the V-neck at the lowest point where my cleavage showed. It wasn't that big anyway. Just average. "Now, 'Ronnie Sawyer, would you like to fuck?"

"You literally just raped me by playing my pussy. If you want to fuck, why not finish where you've started?"

And then I realized.

 _I mad_ _e the mistake._

"Eager darling," she grinned, letting go of the V-neck.

"Uh-that was a mistake, Heather," I stammer back. "Ah-uh-I was t-trying to make a smart remark-"

"Cat got your tongue?"

"I don't want to have sex with you, Heather." I audaciously stated, staring her with a red yet serious face. "I don't want to."

"You said that you want me to finish what I started," The bitch whined. "Are you afraid that you're going to cum on my tongue and leave a huge mess?"

"I just don't want to fuck. I'm goddamn sleepy."

Heather immediately backed out on riding my torso uncomfortably and sauntered away from my blurry view. I rested my head.

Peace and quiet.

Then cold.d

"For fuck's sake!" I cried out. It turns out Heather Chandler threw fucking ice-cold water right at my face.

"Now are you awake?" She sarcastically asked with a brow up.

I turned my pillow upside down, leaving the cold side to my head.

"For fuck's sake, you are an inconvenience, Heather Chandler- _ohh fuck~_ " Heather's tongue engulfed the folds as her tongue dove straight in, and slithered back out. "What in the loving hell was that?"

"I heard you moan," she smiled. "Was that good? Should I continue to fuck you with my tongue?"

"Heather, stop-" The feeling of her tongue was too _fucking good._ " _Heather..._ please- _fuck... holy shit!_ "

My pussy tightened and tightened as her tongue went deeper, massaging everything in her way. Her tongue probably soaked with the juices, she continued, hitting every little nook and cranny. She impaled every single pleasurable spot.

" _H_ _eather... keep..._ no- _fuck..._ _H_ _eather_ stop- _shit..._ "

Heather's eyes piercingly stared into mine. So seductive yet so aggressive. She backed up, with her teeth biting her lower lip, all in a lovely shade of red. She crawled like a cat, closing towards me.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I wanna turn you on," she grinned.

"What?"

"I wanna turn you on," she reiterated. "I wanna fuck you until you cry and beg for my fingers as I edge you until it hurts, you get that?"

My right mind tried to defeat it... but a force that turns me on draws me closer into those alluring eyes of hers. I was turned on, but I was holding so much back to take control and fuck her out of my mind. All the nasty things I can do her, imagining her face full of tears, pleasure and delight as I finger her so badly... No. I had to stay right. This is a bitch in front of my face, fucking me with her slithering tongue.

"Heather, you have to stop what you're- _oh... oh! Fuck! Heather-stop... Hea...Heather..._ "

I closed my eyes in pleasure as I saw Heather's eyes on me. "You look lovely when you orgasm so loudly," Heather cooed at me. "It would be better if you would open your eyes."

I refused to do so.

"Are you not opening your eyes because you're so embarrassed of seeing Heather Chandler?"

Whimpers and god-awful moans was my response.

"Veronica! Open your goddamned eyes!"

I opened my goddamned eyes, still moaning and squirming by her fingers.

" _Heather... fuck yes! Heather..._ "

"Oh fuck, I'm getting turned on by you, Ronnie."

"Don't fucking call me that- _aha... fuck... Heather, stop... fucking-AAH!_ "

"I can't hold on any longer..." Heather sighed.

And then, we were locking lips.

I struggle as my moans get louder and louder, as Heather's luscious and soft lips and the soft taste of strawberry on her lipstick. Her tongue tangled and twisted with mine, as we both massaged each other.

She was damn good.

And I wish that soft tongue was in my pussy.

Heather broke the kiss, and I continued moaning and wailing, struggling, squirming and screaming to Heather.

"Fuck, you're better than Kurt and Ram."

"Heather... Make me... _cum..._ " I desperately pleaded. It was going on for too long. I needed to cum. I needed to. And besides, Heather would goddamn let me cum on her tongue.

"Darling, Veronica, did you just beg?"

"Bitch, you know what I... _fuck..._ fucking said..."

"Alright," she sparingly promised, "I'm turned on, so you better fuck me too," she grinned.

She stopped the pulsing speed of her fingers rubbing against the G-spot, the hard yet gentle presses that gave pain and simultaneously pleasure, and knelt down to apply her tongue in. Heather pulled me towards her, her tongue entirely inside. Is she really gonna make me squirt on her tongue? I'll have to cum to find out.

"Heather! _Fuck y_ _es..._ Heather! Please... _fuck... Fuck m_ _e!_ "

Heather refused to ramble a word as she impaled her tongue, flicking up and down... everything... it's so blurry now... The pleasure is too much...

"Heather... Please... _Heather..._ "

She continued with the rapid pace, harder and harder, somehow deeper and deeper...

" _I'm cumming!_ "

The rush of the white liquid came like a rushing stream when the drawbridge finally opened. Heather's tongue slowly backed out. It was full of dripping and soaking wet cum. And she closed her mouth. And swallowed it.

"Did you just-"

"Yes."

"That's disgusting, Veronica."

"Do I give a shit already, Sawyer? I'm a cum-dumper. Kurt and Ram made me devour every single weak load they have. I'm used to it now," Heather stood up. She smiled and toyed with her blazer, biting her lower lip. "Now, fuck me. Fuck for fuck."

"Wait, I thought-"

"I said 'fuck me' not 'fuck you.' I'm goddamn horny."

"Well, I'm not that good-"

"Just fuck me... I just want to cum."

"You have hands, why didn't you use them?"

"I am so goddamned familiar with my hands and my vibrators, I need something else."

"Why don't you buy another one?"

"I am concerned with my money and don't want to keep buying vibrators-my goddamned parents will know."

I sighed... I'm regretting I was even a Heather.

"Fine, I'll finger you the best as I can." I smiled reassuringly at her.

Heather sighed. "Thank fucking God." She toyed with the bottom of her red blazer again, squirming a little bit. She was desperately wanted out of her hot clothes. "Do you want me to strip slowly in front of you? Just to turn you on?"

"If you want to," I replied.

She slowly undid her blazer, revealing her white undershirt. She went closer, and closer, until she sat on my lap, her legs wrapped around my hips. Her soft and hot breath ran through my skin. Her silky-skinned hand brushed my face.

"I'm more turned on by just stripping in front of you than as I gave a lap dance to Kurt Kelly."

"Well, damn."

"I'm not even turned on to girls..."

"You might be now."

She unbuttoned the plain white shirt, exposing her lovely breasts with her lovely pink nipples. The head bitch, and perhaps a possible fuck-mate held my hand and ran it down to every single inch of her skin.

"It's not fair."

"What's not fair?"

"You didn't take off your shirt yet." Heather looked at me sternly. "I'll help you."

Heather forcefully grabbed the blue shirt and ripped it in half, leaving only a divided husk of what's left.

"What the fuck, Heather?!"

Heather immediately took off her skirt, and her underwear in the process. My God, her pussy and the folds were brightly pink. A desirable looking cunt that a big dick can fit snuggly in. And it looked tight as well. I somehow feel envious of Kurt and Ram. Of course, she threw the skirt and the underwear, because she's Heather fucking Chandler.

"Don't say a fucking word," Heather cursed. I didn't expect that this would be the last time I'd ever see the light of my bedroom, as she aggressively pinned me to the bed and sat on my face.


	2. Reward and the Morning After

She moaned and screamed, making me suffocate more as my tongue tore through the folds of her vagina. Heather squirmed and gave a slight increase on pressure every time she moaned in delight, every orgasm a beg, every scream a failed reminder to shut the fuck up before the neighbors file a complaint on me. Basically, I was drowning in her wet pussy.

"Fuck! Veronica... go deeper... I fucking need your tongue... make me cum. I want to cum, Veronica... eat it all..."

The thought of eating Heather Chandler's semen was disgusting, but considering that she devoured and swallowed without a gag that entire squirt of smooth and a very slight pungent stream of cum, I had to.

"Strawberries... I've been eating those... Makes my cum... fuck... sweeter..." Heather rambled, while trying not to wail and scream. "I learned that at fucking Cosmopolitan or... fuck, Veronica... keep going..."

Cosmopolitan magazine, the magazine to tell women what to wear this season and what to do to make your man scream and also force you to eat strawberries if you have a cum fetish... which she evidently has.

Deeper and deeper, I hit every vaginal wall there is to offer, and hit the right spot, applying pressure to it whilst licking it like you're rushing to get the center of a Tootsie Roll. She was wetter and wetter.

 _This isn't doing anything to her._

I clasped her lower body and pinned her down, putting two fingers in, each finger running at the G-spot, making her orgasm just a little bit more. The other hand gently teased her nipples, tugging them and rubbing them.

"Fuck... Veronica! Veronica... please... Fuck!"

"Oh, Heather," I smiled as she pleaded, with her eyes closed full of pleasure and extreme sexual delight, her face contorted in incriminating poses. "You look fucking good when you orgasm..."

"Veronica, please... Veronica..."

"Didn't know the head bitch can beg," I joked.

"I... I want to fucking cum!" Heather's eyes filled with tears opened up. "Fuck... Veronica! I want... I want..."

"What do you want?"

"Lick my fuckin' clit..." Heather forcefully inched me towards her visage. "Veronica... fuck... I trust you... Make this bitch scream..." She gave me a gentle peck in the lips. She smiled devilishly.

I let go of the hand squeezing her nipple, and circled my tongue on her clitoris.

"VERONICA! Fuck... fuck... Veronica... My god... Shit!" Heather moaned and squirmed as I added another finger to the mix in her pussy. "Fuck! Ronnie! Faster! Ahh-fuck! Faster! Goddamnit-faster!"

The pulsating beat of my fingers kept going faster and faster. "You like that, Heather?" I spoke while licking her swollen clit, starting to squeeze it and nibbling it gently.

"Fuck... Veronica! Fuck..."

I licked her clitoris faster and faster. Her moans and orgasms deliciously rasped, and her squirms became more erratic and violent. God, Heather's getting hotter every time she moans.

"Veronica..." Heather wailed. "I'm... I'm fucking CUMMING!"

Instantly, I put my tongue inside her, drinking every single bit of her sweet, sweet cum. Literally. It was sweet. I guess Cosmopolitan was right.

I moved it around, cleaning every little bit of cum in every nook and cranny on her sweet pink walls of her goddamn beautiful cunt, delving deeper. Resurfacing my tongue out of her, I smiled reassuringly at Heather.

"Veronica Sawyer," Heather Chandler looked at me, as I scanned her beautiful body. "You fuck very well."

* * *

I slept again.

Heather Chandler wrapped me in her arms, cuddling me, and sometimes squirming around a little bit just to make me warm and comfortable. Her soft and gentle warm breath lulled me into sleep.

But I always wake up first.

Yawning and stretching my body, Heather, not surprisingly, woke up too.

"Morning, Heather..."

"Can we make out?" She replied.

"No... My mouth smells like cum..."

"We both smell like cum..."

"I have Listerine," I generously offered and limped to the bathroom.

Heather stood up and walked to the bathroom, with Listerine on her hands. She generously drank a swig and spat it out, repeating it about two times. "There, can we have my long-waited make-out session?"

"My turn," I replied, using the cap, drinking it and spitting out and repeating that for three times.

"Now, can we make out?"

"We smell of cum. On our bodies."

"Shower?" Heather cocked a brow. "Is that what you are implying? Potential shower sex too?"

"That wasn't something that I was going to say, but we can shower together."

Heather Chandler was grinning.

Now I know.

I absolutely love a horny bitch.

* * *

Sharing a shower with Heather Chandler is nice. I just got here. Warm, yet still refreshing water sprayed us as we made out sensually underneath the quite small shower head.

"Heather," I uttered. "Did Kurt and Ram actually give you mind-blowing orgasms?"

"Sometimes," Heather replied back. "Not like yours. They only get to cum and I'd have to finish by miserably touching myself. I wish they would be kinder to me. Just letting me cum would be a godsend. But they don't. They would make me suffer. I could've been fine without you if they made me cum."

"That's rough."

"Was... last time your first one?"

"Yes," I sighed.

"I'm glad I was your first. A man couldn't make you cum like that."

"Why not?"

"I'm a woman. I have first-hand masturbation experience. I know what I like and I can guess what you like. I can try everything on you and do everything that you like and maybe edge so you can pass out when you cum hard," Heather painted a lovely picture in my mind... Goddamnit, I'm wet again. "By the way, you finger very well. You are a fucking animal, Veronica. And, I love it."

Silence.

"Have you ever done dirty talk before?" I asked, curiously.

"Oh, Veronica," Heather chuckled. "Yes, I did. Do you want me to paint a picture?"

I absentmindedly nodded.

"Veronica," Heather sighed. "I want to pin you down in the wall and make you orgasm that lovely shower head you have up there," she eyed the shower head.

"I wanna put that deep inside you and suck and rub your nipples. Next thing I'll do is to lick that lovely ass of yours, combining that with your nipples rubbed and squeezed," Heather kept grinning, and gave a seductive bite of her lower lip. "Do you want to do it now?"

"No," I replied.

"Worth a try. I don't want to rape you, like last night."

"Wanna get cleaned?" I cocked a brow up.

"Yeah, darling," Heather smiled. She grabbed my pink loofah, and put three squirts of body wash, drenching all of it. "Now scrub me. Every little inch," she chuckled and handed it to me.

Heather moved the shower head to the left. I knelt down, starting with her legs. I scrubbed her feet, slowly elevating each area, roughly scratching everything on her legs, foaming like crazy. With body wash on my hand, I gently rubbed the outer area of her vagina, and scrubbing her plump little ass. Caressing it with my hand, I spanked it as I looked Heather in the eyes with a devilish smile. She looked so innocent, until she moaned and gave a face of good pleasure.

"Getting feisty, Veronica Sawyer?"

God, it made me a little turned on as she said my full name.

"Do you want me to spank you one more time before I carry on?" I ask, in a smug manner.

"Yes, Ms. Sawyer," she bit her bottom lip. "I want it to hurt good," she added.

I spanked her once again, hard that it left a slight red mark. Heather whimpered, and bit her bottom lip more and more.

"Sawyer, you give pain very well," Heather seductively nudged closer. "Do you want a little reward for your lovely spanking?"

"Fuck yes, Ms. Chandler," I begged. Suddenly, we locked lips. Tongue and tongue action. Still, her lips were goddamn moist, and soft, luscious. Unfortunately for the both of us, she ended the kiss.

"I wish we could kiss forever," Heather smiled. "But you have to finish me."

I scrubbed her in the torso, slowly rising up, and gently caressed her perky breasts.

"Veronica," she exhaled. "Carry the fuck on, or you won't get to cum again."

"Who said that we're gonna meet again?"

"You'll never cum again. I saw it in your eyes you came and screamed so hard, you'll never cum in a satisfying way. You'll have to beg for me and kneel to the fucking ground so you can be fingered like hell, Veronica."

"Yes, true, you made me scream and give me a lovely head-to-toe screaming orgasm... but..." I started to reevaluate on what she said. "I'll carry on."

"Ha," Heather laughed. "You really love my work, don't you?"

"Heather, shut up."

"I guess you really do," she laughed. "I can't blame you. I once passed out fucking myself."

I continued to scrub Heather's lovely body. Right now, the torso was in progress. "Passed out by dildo or vibrator?" I asked curiously. Perhaps masturbation material later. I rarely masturbate.

"Vibrator. I had a Star Wars lightsaber for Christmas, the lightsaber part was red. The lightsaber was fat, and so I fit it in my ass. Luckily, my folks weren't at home," she chuckled. "I'm goddamn kinky, aren't I?"

"Very kinky," I replied. "Bad girl."

Her masturbation experience might convince me to fuck myself, as she lovingly described, more frequently. And it was never frequent in the first place. Anyway, I began to scrub Heather Chandler on the neck. She grabbed the shampoo and generously put some on her hair and folded and rubbed her hair.

"Darling, Veronica, can you yank my hair gently but not as gently as you're trying to massage it?"

"You like your hair being pulled back?"

"I'm a kinky bitch," Heather demanded. "That's what you said. Now pull on my hair little girl."

I grabbed her hair filled with shampoo and yanked it aggressively. It was still sticking, thank God, but I could've sworn I heard her breath hitch and a raspy moan elicited out of her mouth.

"Veronica, that's good. Keep going."

I kept yanking her hair, Heather's breath hitching more and more, and moans were starting to get clearer and clearer. "Veronica," she pleaded. "One more time."

The final yank. It was the most controlling yank. Which was nice. I got an orgasm from her.

"Oh, fuck, rinse me, Veronica."

I adjusted the shower head, so she can get a rinse out of the water. I looked at her. Droplets of water dripped from her soaking wet hair. Now, I realized her makeup was gone. Maybe it was the sleep. But still, she looked great without makeup. I still missed those cherry red lips. Still, though. She was a masterpiece, water running down her average but yet voluptuous body. I didn't dare to look down. Even though we've seen each other's faces and our bodies convulsing silly after orgasms and orgasms, I was still afraid to look at Heather Chandler's bare body.

"What are you looking at?" She asked, with the same sassy tone that she retained after she humiliated me numerous times.

"You, Heather," I, failing to make an attempt to flirt, nervously uttered. "I was just making the time to appreciate how decent you actually look."

"Decent?" Heather chuckled. "That's the first compliment out of your dirty mouth, Veronica. And I mean dirty. But whatever. Thanks, I guess."

"And that's the first attempt of a saying of kindness out of your mouth," I joked. "You piece of shit," I added. Hopefully that won't cause something bad.

"Bitch, I know right?"

Silence.

"Scrub me, Heather. I need a clean."

Heather immediately grabbed the loofah and applied some body wash, drenching it like a soaked and fully wet pussy. Like mine when Heather started to barely put a finger inside. Immediately, she started from the bottom, squatting down to my legs. She quickly rose up to my thighs. She was... quite aggressive when she was scrubbing.

My mind... it was all about Heather. In a blink of an eye, she was rinsing me already, and we were making out.

* * *

We changed. Heather was changing into the clothes last night and I was changing into new ones. Duke gave me these. It was... very interesting. Not like very slutty, it was a blue flounce blouse. It complimented with a long white skirt. Huh. I'm having an okay fashion sense. We walked out, hoping for breakfast. That hope stopped when the bell of the door chimed, complimented with an aggressive knock.

"Oh my God," I stammered.

"Who's that?"

"I don't know. It took me by surprise."

Heather hid somewhere, giving me a nod to open the door. I complied.

Heather McNamara was there with Heather Duke exasperated.

"Oh, hi, Veronica." Heather Duke sarcastically spat her words right at me. "Where's Heather?"

"Heather?" I stammer.

"Please, girl, I saw her Porsche. She wasn't responding to my text. I came to Heather and didn't see her there. Came to Heather and didn't see her Porsche parked, and I'm quite surprised she was here in the first place."

"Bitch much, Heather?" Heather said as she went closer to the door.

"There she is," McNamara sighed with relief.

"Where were you, Heather?! You made us cancel our reservations to that French place."

"Décontractée," McNamara corrected.

"I know, Heather," Duke rolled her eyes.

"I was drunk," Chandler replied. "I had a shot of Fireball and for some reason went to Veronica's place."

"I'm surprised you didn't crash, Heather," Duke skeptically rolled her eyes again. "Veronica, is this true?"

"Well, I didn't know and I never asked why," I replied. "Heather, you always seem drunk," I eyed to Heather.

"Bitch," she cursed. "I am in full control of myself."

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes.

"Well said, Veronica. I didn't know a pussy cat can be so feral," Duke complimented.

"Shut up Heather," Chandler violently raged.

"Whatever."

"I'm hungry, bitches, so we need to go somewhere." I slurred.

"You think we can go to that French place?" McNamara asked innocently.

"Heather, we need to reserve a table at that place and it's open for dinner," Chandler rolled her eyes. "Heather, you're a pillowcase."

"I was only suggesting, Heather," McNamara glumly excused. I felt bad for the girl.

"Well, suggest smartly, Heather."

"That's it," I angrily declared. "I'm cooking," I said as I turned around and sternly walked only a foot away from the Heathers until a controlling hand yanked me.

Heather Chandler grunted. "Veronica, no. We're going somewhere. We've never tried your food, if I could call it that, and we would gag if we had horrible _food_ of yours."

I walked back to the door.

"Bitch much?"

"We're going to The Château," Duke finally decided.

"Where's that?" I asked.

"Darling, continental breakfasts are so last season, Heather," Chandler whined.

"Whatever. We're going." I joined in. Duke and McNamara sauntered to the jeep that was parked right there at the side of the road, right behind the Porsche. A hand forcefully yanked my hand. I turned around.

"Veronica, I don't need continental breakfasts in front of me. I'm begging you."

"Complain much?" I joked again. "What do you want? Do you want burnt pancakes and rotten chow mein in a styrofoam container or a continental breakfast that costs a fucking arm and a leg? Do you want to go with street rat combo or classy and very bitch course meal?"

Heather was silent. She escorted me and let go as she went to her seat of her Porsche. I sat in the front, obviously. I'm not a kid. I'm fucking Veronica Sawyer. I closed the door, with Duke starting her jeep.

"I'm sorry if I was a whiny bitch," Heather apologized.

"You are always a whiny bitch," I angrily articulated. "Even at fucking. In the shower you whined."

"I said, sorry, Veronica."

"Whatever," Heather and I buckled our seatbelts simultaneously. "Don't whine around this bitch here. If you do around me uncontrollably, you'll never get to cum again."

Heather was silent.

"Desperate slut," I chuckled. We were on the road. Heather Duke was revving faster and zoomed, seemingly as fast as the legal speed limit.

"Game on, Duke." Heather grinned devilishly. "Game on."

"What the fuck are you doing?"

 _Vroom, vroom._

I instantly knew what they were going to do.

We were racing.


	3. Half-Moon Table

"I can't believe we made out when we were driving that whole time," I unbuckled my seat belt.

"I was driving, bitch," Chandler spat her words. "Judging by last night, you're the freakiest bitch in bed."

Another flirt. Nice.

We went out of the Porsche and-

"For fuck's sake!" Duke screamed.

"Ha," Chandler laughed.

"Well, damn," McNamara crossed her arms. "We lost."

"How the hell do you **always** come first?!"

"I used Waze," Chandler chuckled. To be honest, that was funny. I snickered a little bit. Chandler eyed at me, with a huge smile on her face. "You liked that one, bitch?" She snorted a little bit again.

"Yeah," I cracked up. Chandler began to look at Duke with a slight grin. I walked, my stilettos clanking on the concrete, to Chandler, where I daringly posed. Well, posed like a normal person trying to be subtly confident. Shoulder pads help.

"That wasn't even funny," Duke commented.

"Well, your fuckin' applying of blue eyeshadow is," Chandler insulted. She turned around and sauntered slowly to the place. Chandler stopped in her tracks and eyed Duke by turning her torso and head around with her hair swinging like a dramatic flourish. "Come on in if you want to eat. You're not you when you're hungry."

Chandler sat next to me. Awkward. And we were in a half-moon table. Even more awkward. Despite that, there were so many things I didn't know about these filthy bitches. Apparently, they love French cuisine. Who knew?

"My God, Heather," McNamara chattered. "They have more shit now."

"I don't even know what this goddamn fancy shit means," I cursed, stunned at the language of the menu.

"Don't question it," Chandler whined.

Duke perked up. "They have Beef bourguignon." Whatever that meant.

"Julia Child's beef bourguignon," McNamara corrected.

"Who cares about that dead bitch?" Chandler rolled her eyes. "I don't really care, I just want a galette with portobello mushroom, onion herbs with cream, including bacon with an egg, french fries on the side and a cool glass bottle of Long Island Iced Tea."

"I don't know what to order," I worriedly sighed.

"I'll order two of what I'm ordering. It's fucking good, Ronnie," Chandler cooed. I hated the name Ronnie, but now, it felt like it was going to be sexualized. You know. She said that before we fucked. That nickname's now cursed with thoughts of just absolute sex. Goddamnit, Heather.

Duke grunted. "Shut the fuck up, Heather, my one's clearly the best," Duke gloated. "I'm definitely going to order Beef bourguignon-"

"Julia Child's beef bourguignon," McNamara corrected once again.

"Whatever bitch's beef shit, with some fries a Nutella crepe, and a Ricard."

"Jesus," I winced. "Well, after that, you really could stand to lose a few pounds."

"I've been working out," Duke added. "I have a premium gym membership. And by the way," she blabbered.

"What?" McNamara spat her words.

"He's like super duper hot," Duke sighed dreamily. "I can see his abs through his grey tank-top. And thank fucking God, he's single. I'm betting he's a virgin."

"Unlike you," I stated smoothly.

"My fucking God, Heather," Chandler appallingly bitched. "Everything is not about love, lust, the flustered happiness of being with a hot guy with six-pack abs, a cute little face, bearded or not with pink little lips. Love is not fantasy, Heather. It's not fancy and shit like that. Every man you like and possibly want to ride doesn't really want to put their dick between your breasts and fuck your fake-ass tits."

"How can you tell?" Duke reasoned.

"Because I know no one likes you," Chandler jabbed the final blow to an insult on her love life. Well, she is a bitch.

"Whatever," Duke put down the menu.

"Hi," a waiter approached. "Are you ready to order?"

"Yeah," I said first.

"I'd like a Beef bourguignon, fries, a Nutella crepe and a Ricard," Duke sighed.

"Navarin d'agneau with fries and a water, please," McNamara smiled. What the fuck is a Navarin d'agneau anyway?

"I'd like a galette with portobello mushroom, onion herbs with cream, including bacon with an egg, french fries on the side and a Long Island Iced Tea," Chandler enthusiastically chanted. The first time she's ever happy in a long time. "Same with her," she pointed to me.

"Okay," the waiter gave a nod. "That'll be seventeen minutes. Ta," he said before waltzing out the room.

"That's fast as fuck," I was shocked.

"Well, they serve a lot of people, and they have a lot of chefs and people here," McNamara pointed out.

"As you can see," Duke eyed the people inside for their brunch. I haven't noticed actually. Now hearing the clamor of the people and the crowdedness, I finally realized how popular this is.

Chandler's hand silently crept to my leg. I looked at her with confusion, but she replied with a cocked brow up, with a devilish grin hiding behind it?

"Why the fuck are you looking at me?" Chandler rolled her eyes and returned to the table, with her hand on it. "Fucking creepy," she muttered. But this was all a facade. She slid her fingers down my skirt, toying with the edges of it.

 _I must act._

"I agree," McNamara scoffed.

"Now, I'm fucking creepy, huh?" I started an argument. "Duke's blue eyeshadow is fucking creepy. The amount of liquid eyeliner you have on your fucking eyelashes is beyond me. It's too fuckin' black, it's black as your burnt-ass scrambled eggs the last time we ever went to your goddamn house-a fuckin' sleepover or some shit."

"Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw," Duke replied sternly.

"That's my line, Heather," Chandler bitched again.

"If you call me creepy, I suggest looking in the mirror, you absolute cunt," I delivered the final blow. Chandler's fingers finally delved down my skirt, toying with the edges of the panties.

"Whatever, you shit-face," Chandler rolled her eyes. "Let's just wait here."

"So, how was everyone's day going?" McNamara tried to spark up a conversation.

"Good," Duke nodded.

"Okay, I guess," Chandler rolled her eyes. Through my thin panties, she finally touched my clit, and I shivered a little bit.

"What's with you, Veronica?" Duke asked. "Must it be the wind flowing through you? Are you about to throw up? Are you finally going to lose a few pounds?" To be honest, that was quite clever. But fuck her, that stupid big-titted bitch.

"It must be winter," McNamara added. "Now that I realize that, it's a bit chilly."

"That's because you're not hot," Duke insulted. "Both the term about heat and the beauty term. You're not hot. And I'm betting you're never warming up."

"Geez, Heather," I moaned. "You're only hot because your plastic-ass tits are sweating."

"That's true," Chandler supported.

"Shut up, Heather," Duke spat out. "You convinced me to make my tits look bigger, you dumb cunt."

McNamara gasped. "Well, damn!"

"First of all," Chandler's slithered out of my skirt and put her other on the table, hands together, facing at Duke. "I tell you, little sunshine Barbie doll and cold-hearted Blue Raspberry slushie to shut up. And second, you do not call me a goddamn cunt."

Silence.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I stood up, and Duke moved her legs outward, and Chandler stood up too, exclaiming that she needed to go to the bathroom. I amble to the door, and Chandler followed, and then, boom! She pinned me to the wall. No one-not anyone was there.

"I'm surprised you didn't show signs of horniness, Sawyer," Chandler breathed on my neck. She scolded my hand and led me to one cubicle at the far side of the room. She forcefully closed the door. Chandler knelt down, and toyed with my skirt, observing the wet panties. "My, my, my hands have had a charm on you, Sawyer."

"Stop calling me that," I sternly stated.

"Okay, _Ronnie,_ " Chandler emphasized.

Silence.

"Wait," Chandler said. "You didn't bitch on that one. So that must mean you love being called Ronnie," she assumed.

"No, I fucking don't Heather," I raised my voice. "You know that."

"I know that you hate being called that. I also know that you know that you hate being called that too. I also know that you know that I know love calling you that, Ronnie Sawyer," Chandler stated. Huh. Figure out that one. Still confused. "Is it like a nickname thing? Pet name thing? Slave nickname? Whatever it is, you love being called Ronnie. Now that I think of that, at sex you loved being called Ronnie. Now, are you legitimately wanting to piss?"

"Yes," I stated. "Now, give me my privacy."

"No, no, no," Chandler smugly smiled and bit her lip. "I want to see you piss in front of me. It'll turn you on, that's for sure. Maybe I could finger you after. You've been holding back wanting to tell everyone you're a slut."

"No, Sherlock," I joked. "If I tell everyone that I am a slut which I am not by the way, my reputation will fall down. If I will fall down, you will have to come with me."

"I'm a hot slut," Chandler grinned. "Kurt and Ram fucks me on the daily."

"Except today," I spat out. "The early mornings they were smoking pot. You remember that, don't you?"

"They fucked me yesterday, with their big large cocks penetrating the spot," Chandler gloated. "It was nice. More sex that you ever had in your life. Now, piss off, bitch. Both literally and figuratively."

"I thought you were such a basic bitch," I smugly replied. "That is until you used the word 'figuratively.' Smart asses like me use that word and use literally correctly. Should I piss on the toilet or your extremely black eyelashes, so black that it almost matches the color of your eye-bags."

Chandler exhaled. "Don't you fucking cross the line to the nearest Sephora store," she grunted. "I'll not cut the nail of this bitch," she flashed her middle finger right at me. "And shove it right in your ass. Maybe it's filled with Martha Dumptrucks, little brown fat turds. Piss now and I could change my mind."

I sighed as the urine entered out my urethra. I looked up, eyes closed. I knew Chandler's eyes were looking at it. Chandler moaned, and I looked to her when I was finished. "Are you satisfied literally seeing my urethra opening to piss?"

"I was satisfied looking at your pink snatch," Chandler perked up. "But, no. I'm deciding to be merciful in fingering you," Chandler swiftly put her fingers in and violently fingered the fuck out of me, hitting the spot, making me moan. It filled the room, and it reverberated like I was in a vast chamber. "You love that, Ronnie?"

"Yes, Heather," I moaned. "I love you, Heather, I love your fingers, it makes me too loose..."

"Loose?" Chandler questioned. "I've never heard of that term. Whatever. I can guess what it means. I like you, Ronnie. You're very compliant and beautiful. Innocent girls and boys are great sex acquaintances."

"Make me cum, Heather," I squealed. God, she was good. My pussy was tingling hard, and it felt that I had the urge to piss, but in a great way. The feeling is sort of teasing, the urge elevating higher, but the climax was never coming. But that would soon change later. "Make me cum before the others would think we are taking shits."

For the first time, Chandler laughed at my joke. Not a chuckle, but a genuine one. Second time she's ever showed happiness in this day. "I'm just going easy on you, hon," Chandler bragged about her fingering skills. To be fair, that was pretty fast. "I've done faster to myself. Hyperspeed. Wanna cum fast?"

"Yes, I wanna cum hard and fast, Heather," I groaned, not the most elegant sound that came out of my mouth. "Nice and quick... Fuck me with your fingers! V-violate me with your marvelous speed!"

"I'll make sure you don't smell and have traces of cum," Chandler slowly quickened the pace. I moaned more and more, and had tears in my eyes. My vision of hot-ass Chandler were now blurry. "Lavender oil."

"Oh God," I shivered as I felt the climax coming. "I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum!"

"I heard you the first time," Chandler joked. "What a sensitive girl... oh, virgins."

"Shut the fuck up and go faster!" I hissed. Chandler covered my mouth swiftly, and my vision was starting to blur. God, the orgasms were distracting me from even seeing.

"Cum for me in 3, 2, 1."

And then I came.

Chandler's fingers slowly pulled out. The sound was too good. It was wet and slick, slimy and textured. And God, if I didn't have sex with the hottest Heather, I would've been repulsed. "You love that sound?" She teasingly asked. I nodded back.

"You can have some of yourself for yourself," Chandler winked.

"Nope," I stated.

"Great for me," Chandler put her grubby fingers drenched with cum in her mouth, and removed all traces of it. She foxily danced her tongue in circles just to tease me what I've been missing. Cum. I taste only okay.

But God, I want the taste of her again.

"Let's clean that pussy up, girl," Chandler grabbed the toilet paper, lightly dabbing every inch. The wetness was gone. I still smelt like her strong perfume. I highly doubt the other two would crouch down and getting a whiff of the smell of cum. She dropped it down to the floor, and we were out.

I was washing my hands, as usual. Chandler grabbed the perfume again. Of course, I literally pissed right in front of her, so, that was a very great excuse to bring out the strong Axe-like spray. But more feminine. Chandler got a shot of Listerine in a container, somewhere, God knows where the fuck that came from, and gargled, spitting out quickly.

She sighed. Hot as hell. And we were out. Surprisingly short.

Hopefully the girls don't think we took a shit.


End file.
